Grand Master Plan
by verdant quest
Summary: Harry receives an anonymous note, and against his better judgement he gives into his curiosity. Slash
1. Staring into the Dark

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I bow to the superior talent of J.K. Rowling. 

Author: verdant quest

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Slash, kissing

Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy

Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF, OotP

Summary: Harry receives an anonymous note, and against his better judgement gives into his curiosity. 

Author's note: If same-gender relationships bother you, then please do not read. I didn't write this with homophobic people in mind.

Grand Master Plan

On a warm night, in early March, Harry Potter found that the inside of a hall closet is quite dark and not-at-all comfortable. The note, sent anonymously, had been specific in its meeting location. Filch had already made his rounds of the second floor and would not return again until three o'clock, barring unforeseen Peeves' disturbances. The luminous watch on Harry's right wrist read twelve thirty-eight, only minutes short of his appointment time.

'Come and find love and desire fulfilled in the second floor corridor cupboard at 12:45 am. I shall anxiously await you.'

_Not a very informative missive_, Harry conceded silently. No identity of the sender, only an assumption of the recipient, as he had received the note at breakfast with the rest of the owl post. Originally he had not intended to go. He had suspected a trap, or a joke, but his imagination had taken flight and he now needed to understand the cryptic words 'love and desire fulfilled'. _What kind of love?_ _What desire? How would it be fulfilled? How could the sender provide all this to Harry? Had the missive really been for Harry at all?_ Sometimes owls got confused, sometimes they misdelivered undirected mail. 

His watch now read twelve forty-one, _not much longer now_. In the six plus years he'd attended this upstanding institution, he had made good friends, enemies, and had experienced more than most ever would. Harry had never found love, not even a steady companion, not even a fuck partner. _How could anyone love a marked savior, a destined corpse or murder?_ Yet here someone whom claimed to do just that, if Harry was correctly interpreting the note. Twelve forty-five, no sign of the sender. Thirty seconds past the appointed time. _Where was he/she?_

A crack of dim light appeared and unoiled hinges squeaked, startling Harry from his thoughts. The door opened further, but no one was outlined in the light and the blackness swiftly returned as the door shut again firmly. _Had it been a trap, afterall?_

TBC

P.S. Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Stay tuned for more soon. Also, I'm aware that there are some fragment sentences in the text, but I wrote the story this way to be more like real thought patterns. 


	2. Mystery Man

Something warm brushed Harry's lips. Something hot and wet flicked across the surface and gently applied pressure to open his mouth. A tongue learning the inside of Harry's mouth, entwining with Harry's own. _Hot, damp, arousing, marvelous_. Harry's heart thumped against his chest. _Pound, pound, pound_ A hand ran up Harry's arm to the shoulder and a hot, solid, muscled form pressed against his body. _Male, then_. Harry was relieved_; females were too complicated by half_. _Take Cho Chang for example_.

A moan…"umm, Harry." The voice was distorted by emotion and by kissing. Needless to say, Harry couldn't identify the speaker. Scent, too, was prevalent in the tiny cupboard. Heat, musk, and saliva combined into the smell commonly know as sex; but there was also the scents of chalk, cleansing potions, dust and infrequent use. Harry couldn't tell if the other man's signature scent was part of all that. Taste didn't really narrow the field either, as Harry had never tasted another boy in his life unless you counted biting Dudley in retaliation for hanging Harry upside down, when he was four years old. _Touch was the only sensation_, Harry decided, _that might help him identify his assailant. _

Hesitantly, despite the passionate tongue wrestling they were involved in, Harry placed a hand at the other boy's back, and slid it down to his hips, pulling him in closer to Harry. Squirming hips settled into Harry's pelvis, telling Harry that both boys were roughly of a size. _Whom at Hogwarts was slender and 5'9"?_ A number of the sixth year boys, probably. Harry wasn't equal in size to most of the seventh years, after all. _Still among the seventh years, there must be a few, but were any of them in this good a shape? Well not Seamus or Justin Finch-Fletchley, whom else? Not Terry Boot or Blaise Zabini, and of course not Malf…"Malfoy?!"_

The other boy stopped his engaging behavior as if frozen. Harry's hand trailed up to the back of the boy's head. Stiff, gelled back hair met his touch. _Bingo!_ "Malfoy." Not a question this time. 

"Harry…I…" Draco Malfoy stuttered uncharacteristically. 

"Why did you send for me? What was that note all about? 'love and desire fulfilled'? Explain yourself." Malfoy must have felt Harry's uncompromising air because he seemed to nod in the darkness.

"I didn't know how else to get your attention, Harry. Nothing else has worked. I know; I've tried it all. First year I offered you friendship; you turned me down. Over the years I've tried bad manners, bad behavior, lying, playing tricks, spying to learn more about you, teasing, harassment. Last year, though, I realized it wasn't working, and that I still needed your attention, even if it was negative attention. I began to understand that your opinion, your presence matter more to me than anything else. As long as I was your archrival that was good enough for me. If I couldn't be your friend, I'd be important that way. You started to take me for granted though, and to forget me. I couldn't stand for that. I needed you. Then I came to the conclusion that I must be in love with you, Harry. Otherwise I wouldn't care. I'd move onto another victim. I do care, though. I do love you. I need and want you, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to stay near you, and for you to want me, Harry." Draco seemed distraught and desperate, so Harry placed a reassuring arm around his waist. After all Harry could never resist playing hero, protecting the weak, and saving those in distress. 

Draco, taking heart in Harry's action pulled the black-haired boy's face down to his own to passionately prove his lasting regard. Harry considered the blonde boy's words and decided that Draco was correct, _they needed each other_. Harry could not honestly imagine life without Malfoy, regardless of the fact that life would be less complicated. "No more harassing my friends, alright? Try to be civil, if you're planning on staying around. And no reverting to a Slytherin prat whenever you're pissed off, got it?" Harry poked Draco in the chest with his finger.

Draco stood disbelievingly as the Golden Boy opened the door and left the hall closet without a backward glance. "Wait, Harry! Are you giving me a chance?" Harry turned back to him, a faintly amused smile playing on the Gryffindor's face. "I said so, didn't I? Learn to listen, Draco." He turned, "See you at breakfast." With a slight wave he hurried off down the corridor, leaving Draco to ponder his predicament. _How on Earth was he going to handle the bloody Boy Who Lived?_ _Good going, Draco_. _Way to think ahead_. Heaving a sigh the Slytherin closed the cupboard door behind him and headed for the dungeons and a night of restless dreams.


	3. Breakfasting with the Lions

__

Again. Brilliant plan, Draco. How can you, of all people, keep the Boy Wonder of the Wizarding World interested? It was the following day at breakfast and Draco was contemplating the man who might very well be the love of his life. _Amend that, pathetic life_. Nothing Draco had ever done was particularly heroic, honorable, or worth repeating three weeks after it had taken place. _So what was the game plan? Oh, yeah. Right. One of those. No, unfortunately he didn't have one. _

Harry had sat down near his devoted followers and had been waiting for Draco, apparently, for now he looked up and stared at him impatiently. Reluctantly Draco rose from his seat and glanced nervously at the Slytherins, some of who were giving him curious and slightly suspicious looks. Dragging his feet behind him he approached the Gryffindor table where nearly everyone glared ominously back at him. A number of catcalls and insults were thrown his way as he neared the cluster of sixth and seventh year students, including his favorite Gryf. 

Approaching them, he noticed the concerned expression spreading across Hermione Granger's intelligent visage. "Granger, how are you this morning? Prepared for DADA? I understand that there will be an exam later this week, but I know that since you take such excellent notes that you'll do well. Perhaps we can compare notes after the prefect meeting on Wednesday." He shifted his glance, without waiting for a response from the dumbstruck girl. "Weasley," he nodded at the red-haired boy, who had grown until he was easily 6'1" in his bare feet. "How is Quidditch practice coming? Enjoying the good weather we're having? A lot more fun to be out of doors flying when you're not in danger of freezing your arse off, eh? _The poleaxed expressions on the faces around him more than made up for this humbling performance_, Draco decided.

"Miss Virginia, you also have practice. Are you also enjoying this spell of fair weather?" He glanced at the youngest Weasley's robes; a gleaming badge reminded him that he would see all three of these students at the prefect and head meeting. He said something to that effect before greeting Longbottom; "Perhaps you can explain Professor Sprouts' Friday lesson. I seem to have misunderstood the proper process of repotting, if my score results were anything to go by." His tone remained self-deprecating and cordial. Then he found himself without another option other than to turn and confront Harry. 

The other boy's face was impassive, and gave away nothing. ² Hello, Harry. Did you sleep well?" He was annoyed to recognize that his voice was lower and more intimate than he had intended. He hated showing how much he needed Harry. Unlike the others, though, Harry was not slow to respond. "I slept very well, thank you for inquiring, Draco. I trust you also had a restful night. You'll need your strength for the challenges of the day, I expect. Have a seat. You don't mind scooting down a little, Neville, do you? Good. Good." Draco dropped bonelessly into the seat across from Weasel who glared with more suspicion than the Slytherins had, into Draco's bemused countenance. Harry poured him some pumpkin juice and helpfully scooped strawberry jam and gooseberry preserves onto wedges of wheat toast before plopping the plate down before the dragon amidst Lions. For lack of more stimulating conversation, he picked up a wedge of toast and chewed thoroughly.

Hermione Granger leaned over the table and spoke in an undertone to Harry. "What are you doing? Why are you serving Malfoy breakfast? Have you completely diminished all sense of self-preservation, Harry?"

Vaguely offended by this display of distrust, given his honest and friendly treatment of the muggleborn witch, Draco swallowed his mouthful of toast with jam and prepared to deliver a clever set-down. Harry interjected before he had his mouth empty, however. "Hermione, I'm ashamed at you. We should always treat others with respect and kindness when they act similarly to us. Draco has been unfailingly polite this morning, surely we should give the benefit of the doubt?"

He smiled genially at the rest of the table, and with difficulty, managed to hide his amusement. Draco, though, was all too aware of his reaction and shot his foot out to kick Harry in the shin, beneath the table. "OUCH! Hey, what was that for, 'mione?" Hermione looked puzzled and shook her head in ignorance. Harry turned to glare at Draco briefly before subsiding back into his seat. Ginny looked to be a trifle exasperated with her brother's silent fuming and promptly introduced the topic of Care of Magical Creatures class, and Hagrid's latest mistaken attempt to broaden his student's first-hand knowledge of the world's most dangerous living organisms. Draco could feel his stomach knotting in anticipation of being attacked during lessons. _Oh, joy, another opportunity to catch up on my first-aid know-how at the hospital wing. _

The rest of breakfast passes more or less uneventfully, with the exception of the loud speculation at the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables about Draco Malfoy's global positioning. It wasn't until they were preparing to leave the Great Hall that the trouble started, Ron and Hermione began to lead the way toward the Transfiguration classroom for morning lessons, when they simultaneously recognized that Harry had appropriated Draco's hand and was dragging him behind them. Chaos exploded throughout the hall. "Uh…Harry, why are you holding Malfoy's hand?" Neville asked more calmly than anyone else would have managed, under the shock.


End file.
